Thinking Things Over

Back in the day--the day before the proliferation of paper and plastic products, to be exact--a woman's joy was to possess a nice set of china. Thus, through various twists and turns, Fio inherited two sets of really good china of the same pattern (Haviland, to be exact), one from her great-grandmother, the other from Husband's grandmother, and she uses them at Christmas every year. But now she's considering selling both of them off. The times, they are a-changin', and Fiorella doubts that the next generation will value this heritage. besides, there's only so much one can pass on without weighing people down.
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Fiorella has been blessed with good friends. The guys at Mazda take good care of her baby car, Click  Computer Repair provides not only good service, but good advice, and the lady bankers at Chase are helping her through a financial situation she wants to settle. Thank you, one and all.
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Fio has been hearing a lot about meditation lately so she researched it on line--and decided it wasn't for her. Fiorella doesn't want to sit still, doesn't want to clear her mind of everything she has commited to, and doesn't want to hypnotize herself into nothingness. Ever since she was a child, she's had an acute perception of time passing, and she doesn't want to lose that feeling because it is what drives her to do what she must do before she leaves this earth.

Trump Defined

OMG, it gets worse and worse. Now Trump is threatening China, saying the US will go it alone if China doesn't rein in North Korea, which means the only way the Chinese can respond and save face is to back North Korea and say that if we send troops, they'll send troops. This situation is not only scary, but ridiculous. Doesn't our so-called president remember that he personally owes China a boatload of money?

Then there's the way he's loaded the cabinet with losers. And set his daughter and son-law up as presidential advisers. And threatened lawmakers who voted against his health bill. And hops off to a one of his golf courses every weekend. And denies the Russian connection. And tweets at every bird that flies byhis window. And lies and lies and lies.

No way around it. He's a total ass.

TV Tidings

When Fiorella turned on TV last night, she switched quickly through the talking heads discussing chemical warfare in Syria and past Piers Morgan dissing Congress for backing away from banning assault guns and went straight to Scott McGillivray's Income Property, one of her favorites.  It's not that she doesn't care about chemical warfare or gun control--it's that she can't do a thing about either of them and wants to be in a pleasant frame of mind before she shuts her eyes at night.

Which is also the reason that she won't be watching the Duggars flaunting their nineteen children in one-child China.

Fiorella's Record

Fiorella isn't fond of Facebook.  She's sick and tired of the egotism--as if anyone is interested in reading about the minutia of other people's lives. Oops, wait a minute--isn't that what Fiorella writes about daily on her blog--the minutia of her own life?

And speaking of Fiorella's blog, she has been exploring that list she told you about, the one that gave her access to "comments," and she's discovered information on her viewing statistics. In case you've wondered, seventy-two viewed yesterday's  blog, sixty-three people viewed Thursday's, and ninety-one viewed Wednesday's.  Last month she had 1,975 "pageviews," and her all-time total is 31,968. Actually, she usually averages only about eight viewers per day, but she consoles herself that several people, including Husband, check her out just once a week. 

She also discovered that she's had readers 'round the word: 183 in the US, thirty-three in Germany, twenty-six in the UK (thank you, Suzy G.), five in France, four in Latvia, two in China, one in Canada, and one in the Czech Republic.  Fio can only speculate that English students in Germany, France, Latvia. China, and the Czech Republic are using her blog to practice their English reading skill.

All in all, not bad for someone who doesn't advertise.